GENELLAN: PLANETFALL(52)

"And...?" Moth asked impatiently. "And?"

"Huh.. .oh," Dowornobb looked up. "All engagements have outcomes, but one."

"And...?" Moth struggled to contain himself. His theories, such as they were, came from Dowornobb's analysis. Moth was dependent upon his assistant, particularly now that the emperor was interested.

"Some of our ships never came back..." Dowornobb started.

"I know that! Many were never intended to return. They were ordered to intercept quickly, beyond operational ranges at peak intercept speeds. We knew some would run out of fuel. They blew themselves up rather than be captured." Moth was not supposed to reveal that.

"Oh!" Dowornobb said, in quiet shock. "That explains much...."

"Yes, kone! On with it!" Moth insisted.

"Well," the assistant continued. "Our ships all sent back successful reports, claiming to have eliminated the enemy. But trajectory analysis does not bear that out. One alien ship, I am certain, was still moving after our interceptors were recalled or destroyed. Er, perhaps destroyed is not the correct term."

"What? Are you sure? Where did it go?" Moth blurted in a most undignified manner. "It has been days. They will ask why it has taken so long for us to report this."

Dowornobb smiled his irritating little smile. "Well, there really is no good excuse, of course, but you could explain it by telling our illustrious leaders the ancient data processors they make us use are just too slow. Our telemetry links are serialized and the trajectory data file is quite large. Now, if we had the hardware those Public Safety vultures have to keep track of the dissidents, we could—"

"Stop, Scientist Dowornobb!" Moth exclaimed, panic in his voice; he looked about with darting glances. "I will not tolerate seditious talk. You have demonstrated your technical competence, but please do not test my loyalty."

"Genellan," Dowornobb said matter-of-factly.

"What? Genellan?" Moth asked.

"It went into orbit around Genellan," Dowornobb soberly replied. "A very low orbit, barely resolvable. It has disappeared since."





Chapter 13





The Test


Brappa paddled languorously underwater, fishing patiently. The food chain was well served in the warm waters near the spring, where the cliff dweller stalked a cluster of fat fish swimming near the sandy bottom. Expelling air, the hunter struck with blurring speed. Teeth-lined jaws seized an unsuspecting member of the school.

As the hunter smoothly surfaced, fish in his teeth, he simultaneously glimpsed the raft and heard Craag's warning whistle. The raft of the long-legs was between him and the island. Brappa slipped silently beneath the surface, the fish preventing him from taking a deep breath. Submerged, he kicked frantically for the rocky mainland and the protection of its boulders. He waded ashore and peeked across the lake in time to see the raft slide onto the beach.

Inconvenient, but at least it was a change. The weather had kept the long-legs in their cave. With the cessation of rain and the arrival of morning skies swept clear by strong north winds, the morning had been busy. Descending from their camp in noisy groups, the long-legs had washed themselves at the shore, splashing and paddling. They were raucous and incautious beasts. And now they were out on the lake in raft.

Brappa moved bravely up on shore among the rocks to eat the fish; the hunter's fear had lost its edge. His appetite on the other hand was quite sharp.

* * *

"The water's much warmer!" Goldberg exclaimed, cupping her hand in the lake. "The hot spring must be coming from the island."

Tatum pulled easily as Goldberg dragged her fingers in the lake.

"Sandy, row us over to the island," Dawson directed.

Tatum complied with strong, full strokes. Goldberg sat in the stern and flirted with the lanky Marine, watching his powerful shoulders and arms move the unwieldy craft. Tatum smiled at her and winked. Goldberg turned her head. When the raft lurched onto the sandy beach, Dawson jumped into the water. She grunted and huffed, hauling on the steel ring in the raft's nose.

"Wait a second, Nance," Tatum said. "You ain't hauling this boat with me sitting in it."

"The water's so warm," Dawson shouted. "Pepper, you have to feel it!"

Goldberg moved from the stern, leaning against Tatum as she slid slowly around him. She jumped to the beach, splashing water with a conspiratorial squeal while Tatum hauled the raft up on the beach. The women removed their boots and thermal leggings, rolled up their jumpsuits, and waded into the water. Both were soon falling and splashing, their jumpsuits drenched. Tatum briefly watched their antics but then started looking around.